The Wacky Fellowship
by StorySketcher
Summary: A wacky version of The Fellowship of the Ring. Frodo Baggins sets out on a quest to destroy a gift from his uncle, aided by a peculiar band of allies and Gandalf the wizard's "magic". Based on the movie rather than the book.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is (probably) the first fanfiction I've ever written. I apologize in advance for any typos I may have made, as well if the pacing is awkward. Also, I do not own the Lord of the Rings franchise. There. I said it. Even though it should be obvious. It's not like I'm secretly Mr. Tolkien back from the dead and making a joke out of my- I mean his own books. ahem Let's get to it then.**

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Chapter 1: Bilbo's Birthday Party

Mr. Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit. Oh, you don't know what a hobbit is? Well, they're short, gluttonous, and they frequently have smoking and drinking problems. That pretty much sums them up.  
Bilbo was also very old. And wealthy. And had a lot of relatives who wanted him to just die already so that they could move into his home. His adopted nephew Frodo was one of the few relatives who didn't want him dead. Perhaps it was because he was already living in the house.  
Today was Bilbo's hundred and somethingeth birthday, and he was throwing a party. He invited half the Shire to it, but most of them came only for the free food. For entertainment, Mr. Bilbo had hired Gandalf the wizard to come and dazzle the guests with his magic.  
Frodo decided to go to the road and wait for Gandalf to arrive. An hour went by as he sat there. And then another hour. And another. And then, without warning, another hour. Just as Frodo had realized he'd wasted half the day sitting by the roadside, he finally saw the wizard's cart approaching. He crossed his arms as the cart reached him.  
"You're late," he told Gandalf.  
"I am never late," Gandalf replied. "I arrive precisely when I mean to."  
"So... You meant to be late?"  
Gandalf frowned, blinked, and urged the horse to get moving again, muttering to himself about respect.  
He reached Bilbo's hole and knocked on the door.  
"Bilbooooooooo! Open Uuuuuuuuup!"  
Bilbo opened the door and frowned up at the tall wizard. "You're late."  
"Yes, yes, I know," Gandalf said. "I had a lecture on that from your nephew."  
"Well, come in," Bilbo turned away. "But do watch out for the tripwire grenade."  
"What?" Gandalf said, looking down. "Goodness Sakes, Bilbo! Why in the blazes do you have a tripwire grenade in your doorway?!"  
"Oh, it's just something my relatives put there a few weeks ago. They've been doing this sort of thing for years."  
Gandalf carefully stepped inside, hitching up his long robes so that they wouldn't touch the wire.  
"So," Bilbo began as he fetched two bottles of Coke from his pantry, "will you need any materials to use for your tricks this evening?"  
"They are not tricks," Gandalf jabbed a finger in Bilbo's face. "And I will need flour."  
"Flour?"  
"Yes, just flour. Nothing more. A great wizard only uses flour. It's all I need."  
The party began that evening. All the guests showed up, as well as a few hired assassins.  
"This is a nice party!" Frodo shouted at his uncle to be heard above the music and noise.  
"What's that about a rice patty?" Bilbo shouted back.  
"NICE! PARTY!"  
"Oh! Yes, it is," Bilbo nodded, then ducked to avoid a shuriken. "I have a present for you, Frodo!"  
"You're running for President?"  
"A PRESENT FOR YOU!"  
Frodo nodded and they ducked inside a nearby tent.  
"This, my lad," said Bilbo, "is my lucky ring."  
"Why is it lucky?"  
"Just go with it," Bilbo pleaded. "I want you to have this."  
"Oh. Alright," Frodo shrugged. He waited. Bilbo made no move to give him the ring. "Um... Are you going to give it to me?"  
"What?" Bilbo asked as if startled. "Oh, um... yes. I uh... I'll do that. Later." He pocketed the ring and they left the tent. A server handed them some drinks. Bilbo poured his on the ground, where it instantly killed a patch of the lawn.  
"One thing that would make it a better party," Bilbo observed, "would be if Gandalf did some... well... actual magic."  
A group of small children stood around the wizard a short distance away. He repeatedly tossed flour in their faces, shouted "POOF", and insisted that the child had disappeared.  
When it got late, everyone gathered at the tables for dinner. Bilbo climbed onto a stage to make his birthday speech. He bowed to his audience, narrowly avoiding an arrow aimed at his head.  
"Ladies and Gentlehobbits," he began, "Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday!" Some clapping followed, as well as several shouts of "Boo!". "Now," Bilbo continued, "before we eat, I would like to say-,"

 **KA-BOOM!**

The stage exploded in an enormous ball of fire! The blast tossed several of the nearest hobbits into the air. Frodo was hit in the face by Bilbo's ring. Gandalf decided to take advantage of the situation and shouted "TA-DA!". A crowd of Bilbo's relatives cheered and stampeded to his home.  
"Uuuugh," Frodo groaned as he sat up. "What happened?"  
"I performed my magic finale," Gandalf replied briskly.  
"Where's Bilbo?" Frodo asked, looking around.  
"Sadly, he is dead. But I must say, that was quite spectacular, wasn't it? Not to brag of course. A wizard never brags."

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 **That does it for Chapter 1! I'll get started on Chapter 2 right away. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

Frodo found Gandalf at the local inn the following morning.  
"I have a question about this ring," he said. "Bilbo showed it to me before, and it looked boring. But in the explosion, it had fiery writing of some kind on it. Now it's boring again."  
Gandalf looked at him closely. "There is only one answer to this," he said. "This is the One Ring."  
"What does that mean?" Frodo looked at him funny. "I'm pretty sure this isn't the only ring in the world."  
"No, no, no!" Gandalf shook his hands at the hobbit. "You're ruining the drama. It's the ring of power, forged in secret by Sauron! It's extremely-,"  
"Valuable?" Frodo guessed.  
"Dangerous!" Gandalf boomed. The other customers glared at him for the disturbance. "Oh, mind your own business!" he shouted.  
"Why is it so dangerous?" Frodo asked.  
"It can take over your thoughts, making you very selfish and stubborn."  
"Doesn't sound too bad," Frodo shrugged.  
"It gets worse," Gandalf assured him. "It is a weapon of the dark lord. If he ever gets ahold of it, he will conquer all of Middle-earth."  
"You're joking, right?" Frodo sputtered. "How could a ring conquer the world?"  
"As your uncle used to say, 'just go with it'. There is now time to waste in explanation. You must take the ring to Mordor and destroy it at once!"  
"But that would mean an absurdly high chance of Sauron getting the ring!" Frodo exclaimed. "And why do I have to all the way to Mordor to destroy it?"  
"Because that is the only place it CAN be destroyed!"  
"Has anyone tried to destroy it elsewhere?"  
"Well, uh...,"  
"Do we have any proof of this claim?"  
"JUST GO WITH IT!" Gandalf thundered.  
"Shhh!" said the inkeeper. Gandalf, having no patience left, threw flour in his face.  
"You must leave immediately," Gandalf urged Frodo.  
"I might as well, I suppose," Frodo admitted. "The relative have kicked me out of the houe. I don't want to go alone, though."  
"Don't worry," Gandalf smiled. "I'll see to that." He stood to leave. "Meet me in Bree, at the inn of the Festering Puss-hole."  
"EEEeeew!" Frodo said, his face screwing up in disgust at the image the name suggested.  
"I'll go find a companion for your quest," the wizard said, ignoring his reaction. He turned and left.  
"I'm so glad you're coming with me, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed as they marched across the Shire. "How did Gandalf convince you?"  
"Well," the stout hobbit began. "He said I'd probably see some elves along the way. Plus, he said he'd give me lots and lots of money."  
"Oh," Frodo said, disappointed. The wizard hadn't offered _him_ any kind of compensation. The two of them walked in silence for a while.  
"Where are we goin' again?" Sam asked suddenly.  
"Oh, come on, Sam!" Frodo cried. "You didn't even listen to him, did you? You don't what you do as long as you're paid!"  
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Sam agreed.  
They journeyed for a day without anything interesting happening. They were getting close to the edge of the Shire when they were stopped by an unwelcome surprise: The Infamous Masked Bandits.  
"Halt!" said one bandit, springing onto the path. The other bandit appeared from the bushes behind them. Both wore brown masks over their heads.  
"Hand over all of your mushrooms!" the second bandit ordered.  
Frodo and Sam were greatly distressed. All hobbits loved mushrooms, and would never give them away if they didn't have to. Frodo tried to beg their way out.  
"Please," he pleaded, "we are poor travelers!"  
"Silence!" the second bandit ordered.  
"Wait a minute," said the first. "You sound a bit familiar."  
"Come to think of it," said Frodo, "so do you."  
"What are your names?" asked Bandit Two.  
"Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee."  
"Whoops!" Bandit One jumped back a step. "Uh... you can go. Just uh, just move along. Have a nice trip."  
"I know your voice," Sam declared. "Merry?"  
"Aw, man!" the bandit whined. "Dang it! Just my luck!" He took off his mask.  
"Wait," Sam blinked, "if you're here, then that must mean...," He strode over to the second bandit and pulled his masks off. "Pippin! And these masks are just empty flour sacks!"  
"Heh heh," Pippin winced. "Hi, Frodo! Hi, Sam! Long time no see, huh?"  
"YOU TWO ARE THE MASKED BANDITS?!" Frodo cried in disbelief.  
Pippin cleared his throat. "Ahem! That's _Infamous_ Masked Bandits, if you please. We worked very hard for the Infamy part."  
"Hold on," said Sam. "How come you didn't recognize our faces when you stopped us?"  
"Well, uh, we, um," Merry stuttered, "can't, er, see through the, um, masks, you see?"  
"And people just hand over their mushrooms?"  
"Yep," Pippin grinned. "It's easy. They think we're armed."  
"Do you have an extra flour sack I could use?"  
"SAM!" cried Frodo.  
"But it's free mushrooms, Mr. Frodo!"  
Merry fell to his knees. "Please dont turn us in to the authorities," he begged. "We'll do whatever you ask! Won't we, Pip?"  
"Absolutely," Pippin nodded.  
Frodo thought for a minute, then decided. "All right," he said. "We won't turn you in, but only if you come with us."  
"You've got a deal!" Merry jumped to his feet, a look of relief on his face. "But uh... where exactly are we going?"  
"To Mordor," Frodo replied.  
"AW, COME ON!" Merry wailed. "Why is my life suddenly cursed like this?! I can't have anything nice!"  
"Except free mushrooms," Sam muttered.  
"Drop it, Sam!" Frodo ordered.  
He resumed his trek down the road. The other three hobbits began to follow, Merry dragging his feet and moaning. There was a slight breeze. Frodo stopped.  
"I think we should get off the road," he said.  
"Um, don't you think you're being a little skittish, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam.  
A large gust of wind stirred the leaves on the ground ahead of them.  
"Get off the road!" Frodo cried. "Quick!"  
They found a hollow by the side of the road, cramming themselves under a jutting tree root.  
Ten minutes later, they got up, muddy and disgusted, and went back to the road. A piercing shriek sent them all scurrying back into the diry hole.  
"What was that?" asked Merry.  
"SHHH!" the other three hobbits hushed him.  
"Sorry," Merry whispered. "But what was that?"  
"You expect me to know?" Frodo hissed.  
Soon, they began to hear hoofbeats. They waited anxiously as the sounds came closer and closer. Finally, it stopped right above them. The edge of the road hid them, but it also blocked their view of the rider. They began to hear what sounded like sniffing.

 _sniff sniff Sniiiiiiif! Sniff!_

Frodo turned to Pippin. "Would you cut it out?!" he hissed.  
"Sorry," whispered Pippin. "Allergies." _sniff  
_ Frodo slowly peeked outside. A rider in a black cloak sat on a black horse. It appeared to be searching for something. After a few minutes, it started to move on. Then its mount broke into a gallop. Frodo watched until it was out of sight. The hobbits waited two and a half seconds to make sure it wasn't going to double back, then they climbed out of the hole.  
"Well," said Pippin, "that was spooky."  
"I think it was looking for me," Frodo said.  
"That thing?" Merry balked. "Looking for us?! I should have chosen prison!"  
"Oh, stop wailing!" Sam cuffed him on the arm. "What do we do now, Mr. Frodo? Should we call it quits?" he suggested hopefully.  
"Gandalf said to meet him in Bree," said Frodo, "so that's what we're going to do."  
They kept going after night fell, only stopping when Merry passed out from exhaustion. For dinner, the hobbits feasted on the mushrooms Merry and Pippin had collected earlier in the day.  
The following day was filled with more walking, and another visit from a black rider. The hobbits hid in a gully for hours until Pippin lost his patience and donned his flour sack and jumped onto the road.  
"Prepare to be robbed!" he shouted.  
The black rider sped away as fast as his horse would go, shrieking the whole time.  
"Wow," Merry said, eyes wide. "I guess we've got more of a reputation than I thought!"  
It was dark and rainy when they arrived at Bree. Frodo knocked on the gate. The gatekeeper, a wrinkled old man, peered out at the hobbits.  
"Ye who wish to enter must answer three questions," he declared. "What... are your names?"  
"Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin," Frodo answered.  
"What... is your quest?"  
"To come in and get dry!" Sam snapped.  
"Who... is your favorite gatekeeper?" the elderly man asked.  
"Uh," Frodo frowned. "You?" He hoped that was the answer the man was looking for.  
"Alright!" the gatekeeper said, disappearing. "In you go!" The gate opened and the four hobbits walked in the village of Bree. 

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**A little Monty Python reference thrown in at the end for good measure. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Ranger

The hobbits asked around and soon found what they were looking for: the Inn of the Festering Puss-hole. The sign above its door is too gross to put into detail, so suffice to say that Merry threw up after looking at it.  
They went inside and immediately noticed two things. First, there was a horrible odor. Second, due to the small number of customers, it was easy to see that Gandalf was not inside.  
"Great," said Merry. "Now what?"  
"Sir?" Frodo called to the owner. "Excuse me, sir?"  
"Bah!" the innkeeper said, waving them off.  
"We need to know if Gandalf has been here," Frodo insisted."  
"Oh!" said the man. "So you're friends of that idiot, eh? Well tell him that I am sick of his stupid 'magic' and that he should try being a baker!"  
"Okay, but have you seen him lately?" Frodo asked.  
"No, and good riddance!" the innkeeper declared, then stormed off.  
"So much for the plan," Sam muttered.  
"Look out!" Pippin cried. A man clutching his stomach was running for the door. He went straight through the hobbits in his haste to get outside, knocking them down. As Frodo fell, the ring came out of his pocket. He reached for it, and it slid onto his finger. All eight customers, as well as the innkeeper and three other hobbits gasped as Frodo suddenly vanished. The innkeeper started clapping.  
"Now that is some good magic!" he said.  
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried. "Where'd you go?!"  
"I'm right here, you oaf!" Frodo said, confused. "What are you, blind?"  
"No," Sam shook his head, "but you're invisible!"  
"What do you mean?" Frodo frowned.  
"There's really only one thing that statement _can_ mean," Pippin observed. Frodo yanked the ring off his finger.  
"Oh, thank goodness," Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought I'd lost you. Gandalf wouldn't have paid me if I had. I'm so happy you're back!"  
Suddenly, one of the customers marched over and knelt beside the hobbits. He was tall, and his head was hooded. A sword was sheathed at his side.  
"Come with me," he said. The hobbits stared.  
"Why?" Frodo asked the obvious question.  
"Gandalf is a friend of mine," the stranger replied.  
"Oh," said Frodo. "Okay! I don't see any reason you could possibly have for lying! We'll come straight away!" The man stood and led the four hobbits into a private room.  
"You carry a great burden, little hobbit," he said.  
"I know," Sam moaned. "This backpack is stuffed to bursting."  
"Not you!" the stranger snapped. "Him!" He pointed at Frodo.  
"My ring is none of your business," Frodo blurted.  
"I said nothing of a ring," the man remarked.  
"Whatever," Frodo said, cursing himself for being so bad at keeping secrets. "Why are you being so mysterious? Who are you, and are you going to help us or not?"  
"Oh, I will help more than you can possibly imagine," the man said. He drew his sword and held it above his head. "I am the greatest warrior on the face of Middle-earth, a Dunedain Ranger, and the future King of Gondor, to boot!"  
"Um...," Merry said, "... do you have a name?"  
"I'm getting to that," said the Ranger. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, son of Arador, son of Argonui, son of Arathorn the first, son of Arrasuil, son of Arahad, son of Aravorn, son of-,"  
"Okay, okay!" Frodo interrupted. "We get the picture! Impressive ancestry and all that."  
Aragorn sheathed his sword. "Sorry," he apologized, "I can get a little carried away sometimes."

At the gate, the old gatekeeper looked through his window to see nine cloaked riders on black horses. He asked the first of his three questions, and all the did was hand him a gold coin. He looked at it with distaste.  
"You know what I hate?" he asked. "I hate people like you. People who think they can do whatever they want and go wherever they please if they have enough money! Well, your luck has just run out! I've never been bribed away from my duty before, and it's not happening tonight!"  
The rider in front stared at him from the depths of his hood for a minute, then handed him a second coin.  
"Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen," the gatekeeper smiled. "In you go!"

"We must go quickly," Aragorn informed the hobbits, heading for the door. "I am to escort you to Rivendell at once."  
"Rivendell," Sam mused. "I know I've heard that name before. What's Rivendell again?"  
"Sort of like elf-central, I suppose," Aragorn replied. Sam fainted on the spot. Aragorn stared in confusion for a second before his leadership skills took over. "I, being by far the strongest among us, shall carry him. You," he pointed at Merry, "shall carry his backpack."  
"I just can't have anything ni-,"  
"Knock it off, Merry," Frodo groaned.  
They headed out a side door. Sam was flopped over Aragorn's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Merry staggered around at the back of their little column, trying not to fall under the weight of Sam's pots and pans. Little did they know that scarcely five minutes after they had left, the black riders were entering the Inn of the Festering Puss-hole.  
Sam woke after about ten minutes and walked on his own until the end of the day. He asked for a reminder of where they were headed once they stopped for the night.  
"Don't say Rivendell or he'll just faint again," Frodo whispered to the Ranger.  
"We are going to...," Aragorn said slowly, "uh... Weathertop! Yes! We are going to Weathertop, the ancient fortress of my ancestors: Arathorn, and Arador, and-,"  
"Oh no!" Frodo cut him off. "Anything but your extensive list of ancestors."  
Aragorn stood and stomped away, muttering something about respect. A few minutes later, he returned, dragging a smelly deer carcass.  
"By my amazing hunting and tracking skills," he said, "I have brought down the mightiest deer in the forest. Now cook it; I'm hungry!"  
"Are you kidding?!" cried Pippin. "This old thing has been rotting for days! There's now way we're eating that!"  
"Fine," Aragorn stormed, throwing his hands into the air. "We won't have dinner! I don't need to eat every day! I can go for weeks without a single-,"  
"Actually," Sam said, digging in his enormous pack, "I packed plenty of sausages and potatoes."  
"I would've easily killed us another deer, but I will accept your humble offering," Aragorn bowed.  
"What? No!" Same laughed. "All I'm saying is that _I'm_ not going hungry tonight. Get your own food."

The next day, the four of them were forced to journey across a marsh. Aragorn and the hobbits were besieged by the biting mosquitoes and gnats. Aragorn was the first to lose his patience.  
He drew his sword and began slashing at the air. "Die, you bloodsucking cowards! Face the blade of Aragorn, son of-,"  
"STOP!" the hobbits all shouted. Sam was looking quite pale, as he'd nearly been decapitated by the wildly swinging blade.  
"Alright," Aragorn sighed. "But I think I got one. At least one. Maybe twelve."  
"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," said Merry, who was apparently bug-proof. "This ins't all that ba-," He tripped over an underwater root and fell face first into the smelly ooze.  
"Poor Merry," Pippin sympathized. "He just can't have anything nice."  
As the evening shadows were lengthening, the swamp now only an unpleasant memory, Frodo noticed a dark shape looming ahead of them.  
"Is that it?" he asked. "Is that Weathertop?"  
"It certainly is," Aragorn nodded. "I, having a keen memory, would recognize it anywhere. We will be there before nightfall."

When they reached Weathertop, Aragorn scouted around for edible plants, which the hobbits made into a meal. They built a small fire on top of the tower, and sat around it, eating as darkness fell. Sam opted for his sausages and potatoes over the makeshift salad.  
"This is pretty good," Frodo admitted, munching on the makeshift salad.  
"Nothing evades the eyes of a Ranger," Aragorn stated. "Though, I could only find one mushroom." Frodo later found that he was the lucky one. His salad contained the single mushroom, making all the other hobbits jealous.  
Sam annoyed them all by making loud smacking noises with his mouth, eating his sausage with unnecessary pleasure. "Mmmmmmm," he moaned. "Mmm-mmm-MMM! So goooood!"  
"Knock it off!" said Merry. "I'm starving! I can't live on weeds!"  
Aragorn went to sleep soon after dinner. The hobbits waited until he started snoring, then huddled to discuss their new ally.  
"How do we know where he's taking us?" Sam asked. "None of us have ever left the Shire before. We could be anywhere!"  
"He's right," Pippin agreed. "Can we trust this guy?"  
"I'm sure we'll be alright," Frodo assured them. "He is a friend of Gandalf, not the enemy."  
"How do we know?" Merry frowned.  
"If he were the enemy he would have killed us by now."  
 _"SHRIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"_ A horrible, piercing scream sounded from the ground below them, making all four hobbits jump and causing Aragorn to wake up.  
"Hey! What? Who said that? Where's my crown? I'm hungry! Are we there yet?" His eyes came into focus. "What's going on?"  
"The black rider has found us!" Merry wailed. "We're doomed!"  
Aragorn peered over the edge. "Oh, relax. There's only nine of them."  
"NINE?!" Merry wheezed.  
"Here," Aragorn tossed each of the hobbits a short sword. "You won't be nearly as good with it as I am, but that's perfectly true with just about anything. Just pretend you're me, okay?"  
The hobbits gripped their swords and waited nervously. Frodo gasped as the black riders emerged from the darkness with swords drawn. Aragorn charged them.  
"Hiyaaah!" he yelled. "Face me, you fools! I shall slay thee!" The black riders watched as Aragorn performed complex sword moves, spinning and twirling and... he accidentally dropped his sword. CLANG! "Oops," Aragorn winced.  
"Out of our way, Ranger," a black rider hissed. "Lord Sauron will have his prize!"  
"Who are you?" Frodo demanded.  
"We are the Nazgul, and we are here for the ring." The black riders advanced.  
"I gave it away," Frodo lied. "I gave the ring away already." The Nazgul paused.  
"I didn't think about that," one said.  
"Who did you give it to?" another demanded.  
"He wouldn't give it away," a third slapped the second. "Its influence is too strong for that. He's lying!"  
"Just hand it over, and we'll leave you all alone," a fourth suggested.  
"No," growled a fifth. "We kill them all!"  
"Let's just kill the ring-bearer!" the sixth Nazgul offered. "He's the one we want, right?"  
"I smell sausage," the seventh muttered.  
"Should we search that inn again?" asked the eighth.  
"No way!" the ninth shook his hands. "I'm not going back in that horrible, sticky, smelly-,"  
While all this was going on, Aragorn was able to inch over to where his sword lay on the ground and pick it up. Now he attacked the Nazgul as they argued.  
"Die, you foul, nasty, creepy, evil bad guys!" he yelled, and stabbed the nearest Nazgul in the face.  
"Gah!" the Nazgul cried. "What is wrong with you?! I was in the middle of talking! Not cool!"  
"I uh...," Aragorn stuttered, "... I didn't expect you to survive that."  
"Ha! There's a sword sticking out the back of your hood!" one of the Nazgul pointed at his unfortunate comrade.  
Frodo grabbed a stick from the fire and hurled it at one of the black riders. The Nazgul's cloak went up in flames with a loud whoosh. The other eight Nazgul all dropped their swords and started beating on the flames, trying to put them out. This turned out to be a bad idea, for soon all nine riders were running around, covered in flames.  
"I have a brilliant plan!" Aragorn shouted over the Nazguls' noise. "We must carefully execute a speedy and courageous tactical retreat!" The hobbits stared at him and scratched their heads in confusion. "RUN!" he yelled.  
They raced down the stairs, across an open plain, over the river, through the woods, to Grandmother's house, and into a small clearing in the middle of the forest.  
"Wow," Sam puffed, hands on his knees. "How did we get here so fast?"  
"I don't know," Aragorn said, "which is rare."  
Frodo groaned. "I don't feel so good." He sat down on a fallen log, but a second later, he passed out! Aragorn rushed over and put a hand on the hobbits forehead.  
"He's as hot as Mount Doom!" he exclaimed.  
"Quick!" said Sam. "Put the ring on his forehead! Then I'll get paid!"  
"Quiet!" Pippin smacked him over the head. "Can you help him, Aragorn?"  
"I need weeds!" Aragorn cried. " _Athelas_! Find some _athelas_ , quickly!" The hobbits remained still. "It's also called Kingsfoil," Aragorn stated.  
At once, the three healthy hobbits rushed into the bushes and started tearing them apart in their search. Aragorn headed off into the bushes as well, but had trouble identifying the plants in the dark. He eventually gave up and started grabbed a handful of random leaves before heading back to the clearing.  
"Is this enough?" Merry asked when Aragorn stepped back into the clearing. A pile of uprooted _athelas_ , almost as tall as Aragorn was himself, sat next to Frodo's unconscious form.  
"It'll have to do," Aragorn said, dropping his leaves. He grabbed a handful from the pile and mashed it up before stuffing it in Frodo's mouth. He moved Frodo's jaw up and down, forcing him to chew. "That's it. There you go. Tasty plants. Eat 'em up! Why isn't it working?!" He grabbed another fistful and shoved it in as well. Frodo moaned and Aragorn moved away, expecting him to recover. His spirits sank when all Frodo did was spit out the weeds and lose consciousness again.  
"Is that what's supposed to happen?" Sam raised an eyebrow.  
"He needs medical skills greater than I can give him," Aragorn admitted. "We need Elrond's help. We must take him to Rivendell immediately. Sam, if you faint, I'm going to chop you in half!"  
It was too late. Sam was already slumped over on his side, a peaceful expression on his face.  
"Oh, never mind!" Aragorn growled. "You two, carry him! I'll carry Frodo. Now MOVE!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Wizards

Aragorn and the hobbits once again began to run through the woods, Frodo slumped over Aragorn's shoulder, Sam carried between Merry and Pippin. Sam woke up after Merry dropped his head, and then he ran on his own. It was too far to go in one day, so they made camp. Frodo woke up briefly, vomited and passed out again. After a lengthy struggle with the stout hobbit, Merry, Pippin, and Aragorn managed to get their hands on Sam's provisions and ate them.  
The following morning, they continued their rapid pace, going as quickly as Sam could keep up with. Finally, well after midday, they stumbled over a stone bridge and into Rivendell.  
Aragorn staggered the last few steps, then fell to his knees. "ELROOOOOOOOOOND!" he shouted, his volume causing birds to take flight from nearby trees. He set Frodo down on the ground.  
A minute later, the lord of Rivendell came racing around building corners and skidded to a halt in front of them. "Welcome," he said, gasping and trying to catch his breath. "How can I... whooh! How can I help?"  
"This hobbit has fallen prey to some kind of fell poison," Aragorn explained.  
Elrond felt Frodo's forehead and then looked at his tongue. "Have you tried athelas?"  
"Yes, of course I tried athelas!"  
"What about kingsfoil?"  
"That's the same thing!"  
"Did you try hitting him in the face with a frog?"  
"Yes I- wait, what?" Aragorn asked, befuddled.  
Elrond shouted something in elvish. A few moments later, another elf came running over, clutching a squirming frog. He handed it to Elrond, who thanked him. Before anyone could stop him, Elrond began smacking Frodo in the face with the wet frog, holding it by a hind leg and swinging it to and fro. A disgusting smack accompanied each hit.  
"Are you serious?" Merry asked. "This is your cure?"  
"Quiet," Elrond ordered. "I need to concentrate." He kept smacking Frodo with the frog for another minute, then stopped. "There. That should do it."  
"What's that gurgling sound?" Pippin asked.  
Frodo woke up coughing violently. He turned his face towards the ground. Slimy bits of the mushroom he'd eaten on Weathertop fell out of his mouth.  
"Nothing but food poisoning," Elrond sighed, and flung the frog away.  
"He... He must have eaten it when I wasn't looking," Aragorn said. "Foolish hobbit. He should've known better."  
"It's not his fault! You gave him that thing!" Sam shouted.  
"Don't be absurd," Aragorn scoffed. "I would never make such a mistake."

Frodo was taken to a quiet room were he could rest and recover. It wasn't long before Elrond came in.  
"You are lucky to be alive," the elf lord told him.  
"Aragorn won't admit it," Frodo said, "but he did give me that mushroom."  
"Yes, I believe you will find his boasts outmatch his ability. It takes some getting used to. But for now, you have a visitor." He stepped aside and Frodo gasped as Gandalf entered the room.  
"Is this some sort of joke?!" he demanded of the wizard. "I thought you were going to meet us in Bree!"  
"That was my plan," Gandalf nodded. "but I was delayed. After I left you, I went to Isengard to seek the council of Saruman the White.  
Gandalf began telling Frodo the story. He had arrived at Isengard shortly before dark and knocked on the massive black doors of Orthanc. After a moment, it was opened by Saruman.  
"Oh," Saruman's face fell. "It's you."  
"I have urgent news. I must speak with you," Gandalf pleaded.  
Saruman gave a loud, lengthy sigh. "Fine. Come in."  
They went into the main chamber. Gandalf tossed a handful of flour in the air, saying it would prevent eavesdropping.  
"The ring of power," Gandalf began, "has been found. Bilbo Baggins had it this whole time!"  
"WHAAAT?!" Saruman exploded, but quickly regained his composure, his eyes narrowing. "Wait... Are you sure you've found it this time?"  
"Absolutely," Gandalf nodded emphatically. "No more of those wedding rings. This is it for sure."  
"This is a very interesting turn of events," Saruman mused, and began pacing. "Does Bilbo know what he carries?"  
"Bilbo died yesterday," Gandalf answered. "Frodo carries it know, and he knows what it is."  
"Then he will most certainly be killed for it," Saruman declared. "The Nazgul are hunting for it."  
"How do know this?" Gandalf questioned.  
"I've been talking with people who know all about these sort of things," Saruman waved a hand dismissively.  
"Who? And be specific!"  
"I have discovered that, fighting against Sauron, there can be no victory this time. There is only one option left for us." Saruman ceased his pacing and turned to look Gandalf in the eye. "We must join him. We must join Sauron."  
Gandalf was shocked. He had never thought that Saruman could suggest such a thing. "But that's a stupid idea!" he exclaimed. "Have you gone mad?!"  
"So," Saruman's face darkened, "is that a no, then?"  
"It is most certainly a no, a nein, and a nyet!" Gandalf replied. He turned to go.  
"Not so fast, my friend," Saruman said. "I'm not finished with you yet." He reached over to the wall and pulled a hidden lever. Bags of flour over the doorways turned over, spilling their contents onto the floor. Gandalf was trapped! He turned back to face Saruman, his heart filled with dread. "Did you think you could refuse me and then simply leave?" Saruman asked, walking slowly closer. "You have always been a fool, Gandalf. It's past due for me to teach you a lesson!" He pulled a sack of flour from beneath his white robes and tossed a handful at Gandalf. "POOF!"  
Gandalf cried out in pain, but quickly began firing off flour of his own. "POOF!" he shouted.  
Saruman slipped and fell onto his back, tossing more flour as he fell. "POOF!" Gandalf spun around and fell onto the hard floor.  
The wizards tossed flour all over the place, making each other face-plant, fall, and crash into the walls. Soon, there was so much flour floating around in the air that they couldn't even see each other anymore. Gandalf tried to stifle his coughs as he cautiously tried to find a way out, but he was ambushed by Saruman, who tripped him and took his bag of flour.  
"I gave you the option to join me willingly," Saruman stated, "but you have elected the way of... PAIN!" He used both hands and threw fistfulls of flour at Gandalf. Gandalf tried to shield himself with his arms, but he was soon covered with the white dust. He lost consciousness.  
When Gandalf woke up hours later, the first thing he noticed was the strong, cold wind blowing in his face. He sat up. It was dark, and he couldn't tell where he was. Groaning, he stood and walked a few feet. That was all he needed to find out he was on top of the tower of Orthanc. The edge loomed in front of him, and below he could see hundreds of torches. The trees were falling as crews of orcs pulled them down. Saruman had obviously made extensive preparations for betrayal, and had managed to keep them hidden.  
"And now I'm his prisoner," Gandalf muttered. He began to wonder how long Saruman would keep him up here. Perhaps the white wizard planned for him to die of starvation. Gandalf frowned at the unpleasant thought, but then he saw a glimmer of hope. A moth was flying around the top of the tower, making slow headway against the wind.  
Gandalf was fully convinced that he could talk the moth into bringing help, perhaps something dramatic like a giant eagle for him to ride to freedom. He reached out and gently caught the moth. After whispering his instructions to it, he blew it off his hand. It fluttered away slowly. Very slowly. Gandalf decided to hurry things up a bit. Reaching underneath his beard, he pulled out a tiny emergency reserve bag of flour and took a pinch of the dust in his fingers. "Poof!" he said, tossing it onto the moth.  
The moth dropped like a stone. "Poof! POOF! Poofpoofpoofpoof!" Gandalf cried desperately, using all his flour to try to get the moth flying again. It didn't help. The moth plummeted all the way to the ground and was eaten by a hedgehog.  
Now Gandalf was quite frustrated. He had no flour, no moth, and no rescue. He paced along the edge of the tower, trying to think. His pacing revealed a second hope in a bigger form than a glimmer.  
There was a ladder all the way to the ground! Gandalf frowned at it, wondering why he hadn't seen it before. After a minute, he decided he must have accidentally made it with all the flour he'd tossed. Smiling to himself, he climbed down.

"And that's why I was unable to meet you at Bree," Gandalf finished recalling the tale to Frodo.  
"Are you serious?" Frodo asked.  
"Of course I am."  
"You and this other wizard, Saruman, fought each other... with flour?"  
"Well, what else could I have used?" Gandalf demanded. "A sword? A bow? No. I am a wizard. I use magic as my weapon."  
"No, you don't!" Frodo shouted. "There's nothing magical about flour, and there's nothing magical about you! Your stupid magic doesn't do anything! Your such a-,"  
"Silence!" Gandalf commanded, tossing flour in Frodo's face. Frodo inhaled some and began to cough. "You see? I can make even a hobbit shut up with just a wave of my hand! I am a great and powerful wizard!" Frodo couldn't breath well enough to reply, so Gandalf left with full confidence in his abilities.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Fellowship Forms

It took another full day for Frodo to recover, but afterwards he was completely fine. He was finally able to walk around and see the sights of Rivendell.  
Not for long, though, for Elrond had called for a secret council. As the ringbearer, Frodo was obligated to come. Everyone was seated in an oval-shaped, porch-like area with lots of chairs and a pedestal in the center. He sat down next to Gandalf and listened as Elrond introduced everyone to each other.  
"Frodo," said Elrond, "bring forth the ring." Frodo stood up, walked over to the pedestal, and slowly put the ring on top. Several of thosse assembled gasped quietly. People from all over Middle-earth, elves, men, and dwarves, had gathered to discuss the dark times looming before them. The man named Boromir whispered, "Isildur's Bane!"  
Hearing the name of his ancestor, Aragorn jumped to his feet. "Behold! It is I, Aragorn, Isildur's heir, future king of Gondor!" he shouted. Then he noticed the looks everyone was giving him. "Sorry," he mumbled, and sat back down.  
"Ahem!" Elrond cleared his throat. "If Aragorn is finished, let's get started." Gandalf, however, had other ideas.  
"First, allow me to help," he said, and tossed a handful of flour into the air. "Sauron won't be able to see our council now."  
"Whatever," Elrond waved a hand dismissively. "As you all should know-,"  
"Then why are you telling us?" Boromir cut him off.  
"STOP INTERRUPTING!" Elrond lost his cool. "At this rate, we'll be here for days!" All was quiet. "Thank you," Elrond sighed. "Now, we are certain that this is the one ring. We also know for certain what we must do about it."  
"Which is what, exactly?" Boromir questioned.  
Elrond rolled his eyes. "Take it to Mordor and destroy it in Mount Doom! Didn't you read my pamphlet?" He looked around at the assembled council. "Did _anyone_ read my pamphlet?" One dwarf, Gimli, raised his hand. Elrond put his hand over his face. "Unbelievable."  
"Destroy the ring?!" Boromir cried. "You call for us to waste our one chance to defeat Sauron? We must use this weapon against him!"  
"If you had read my pamphlet, you would know that you're mistaken," Elrond said slowly. "We cannot risk it. The ring must be destroyed."  
"Why go all the way to Mordor to do it then?" asked Gimli. Frodo began to speak, but was interrupted by Aragorn.  
"That's what I-,"  
"I thought you said you read about this!"  
"The pamphlet didn't give an explanation," the dwarf answered. "Why didn't you read it?"  
"Ha! And why should I?" Aragorn scoffed. "I am Isildur's heir! I know everything about the ring. More than you, for sure, son of Gloin."  
"What's that supposed to mean?!"  
"POOF!" Gandalf threw flour between the two of them. "Silence your bickering! Let Elrond speak!" But it was too late. The lord of Rivendell had been interrupted one too many times, and had left the coucil in a huff. "Oh," said Gandalf as he discovered Elrond's absence. "Very well. I suppose I'll take his place as council leader. Now, our main goal is to find a way to get the ring safely into Mordor. Does anyone have any ideas?"  
An elf named Legolas immediately jumped to his feet with a smile. He started to say something, got a puzzled look on his face, and then sat back down without a word. Everyone eyed him for a minute.  
"Is there something you want to suggest, Legolas?" Aragorn questioned.  
"I was just thinking," Legolas began, "that maybe we could put the ring in a really, really big catapault and launch it into Mount Doom."  
"Sounds pretty good," Gandalf said. "What's the problem?"  
"We'd need a really, really big catapault."  
"Then there is only one option," Gandalf declared. "One of us must journey to Mordor by foot."  
"I'll do it!" Aragorn shouted. "After all, I'm the most highly qualified person here."  
"I still say we use it," Boromir put in his two cents.  
"I read the pamphlet," Gimli said. "I'm the only one here who knows how to do it right."  
"I could probably do it the fastest," Legolas pointed out.  
"Well, I am a very wise and powerful wizard!" Gandalf declared. "I have the most experience against the forces of the dark lord. I should be the one to do this."  
Before long, everyone was arguing, and nothing was getting decided or accomplished. Everyone was trying to find faults in other people, and boasting about why they should be the one to take the ring to Mordor. Aragorn was by far the loudest, easily making himself heard over everyone else's shouting.  
"Well you can't ALL go!" Frodo snapped. All noise ceased abruptly as everyone pondered this. "Or can you? It's really not a bad idea!"  
"Of course it's a good idea!" said Aragorn. "Took you all long enough to figure it out. I thought of it ages ago." Frodo groaned. Boromir raised his hands, not ready to give up yet.  
"How about this," he started. "We go to Mordor, use the ring to defeat Sauron, and destroy it immediately afterwards."  
"What's the point?" Gimli asked. "Destroying the ring destroys Sauron at the same time. There's no need to use it."  
"Oh," Boromir's eyebrows shot up. "Well... I guess I should have read the pamphlet."  
"It is decided then," Gandalf declared. "Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Gimli, and myself will do this together. The five of us shall go and destroy the ring."  
"I'm coming too," Frodo corrected. "This is my burden to bear."  
"Very well," Gandalf agreed, "the six of us-,"  
"And me!" Sam jumped out from behind a pillar. "I don't get paid otherwise."  
"Then the seven of us-,"  
"We're going as well!" Merry cried as he and Pippin popped out of a nearby fountain wearing snorkels.  
"We promised we'd go with Frodo to Mordor," Pippin said. "The Imfamous Masked Bandits never break their promises."  
"Nine!" Gandalf shouted. "And that's final!" He stared at Gimli's elderly father, daring him to try and make it ten. "There. That's settled."  
"You shall be known as the Fellowship of the Ring," Elrond declared, coming out of nowhere and startling everyone, "whether you like it or not."  
The council was the dismissed and preparations were made for the journey ahead. Everyone took weapons. Frodo was given a small sword named Sting that Bilbo had forgotten and left behind on his last visit to Rivendell. The other hobbits kept the daggers Aragorn had given them. Aragorn took his sword. Gandalf took sacks of flour from Rivendell's extensive pantries, insisting it _was_ a weapon. Boromir took his sword, shield, and his 'Horn of Gondor'. Legolas took a bow, a large supply of arrows, and two small knives. Gimli carried a double-headed ax, a regular ax, two hatchets, and four smaller hatchets for throwing.  
They set out early the following morning, trekking through the forest, across fields, and into the mountains. Gandalf, self-elected leader of the fellowship, had decided that the best route was over the mountain of Caradhras. It was hard going, for the colossal mountain was covered in a thick sheet of ice and snow. Fierce winds tore at the group as they climbed. After almost five hours of slow climbing, Merry face-planted and made a discovery.  
"Oof!" he grunted, falling down. When he stood back up, his face was puzzled. "That's not snow," he said. "It's all dry and it's not melting." He put a finger in his mouth. "It's flour!"  
Gandalf went pale. "It's Saruman!" he cried. "Run! Back the way we came! Quickly!"  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Why? We're almost to the other side!"  
"Yeah," Legolas said, "it's just flour. What's the problem?"  
"In the hands of someone the likes of Saruman, it is a diabolical weapon of pure evil!" Gandalf shouted, shoving past them. "We must find another way!"  
"You can't be serious!" Frodo cried. "We'll have gone all this way for nothing! You said this was the best way! Where else can we even go?"  
"I don't know," Gandalf admitted. "All I know is that any second now, we are all going to turn into salmon!"  
"S-salmon?" asked Pippin through chattering teeth. "W-w-why salmon?"  
"JUST GO WITH IT!" Gandalf roared in his face.  
Gimli, visible only as a head above the thick snow, raised a hand. "I've got an idea! We could travel under the mountains, through the Mines of Moria!"  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Boromir asked. "I've heard some pretty nasty stories about Moria."  
"Oh, they're perfectly safe," Gimli assured him. "A relative of mine went there a few years back. I'm sure he's cleaned all the goblins out by now."  
"Goblins?" Frodo repeated. "I'm not sure about this."  
"It's goblins or salmon, take your pick," Gandalf said brusquely. He made some 'subtle' gestures towards the way they had come.  
"Fine," Frodo shook his head tiredly. "But I'm not going to turn back again. Especially not for such a stupid reason as this."  
"Perfect!" Gandalf nodded. "Let's get a move on before we become fish." They marched back down the mountain. Only Gandalf was happy. The rest were grumbling and disgruntled. It took the rest of the day just to get to the entrance to Moria, which was closed. Large stone doors sat in the side of a sheer cliff, outlined in runes. Gandalf read them aloud.  
"The door of Durin, Lord of Moria," he said. "Speak, friend, and enter."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Merry asked.  
"I have no idea," said Gandalf. "Still, nothing a little magic can't fix. Poof!" He tossed some flour onto the doors. After ten seconds, nothing happened. Gandalf threw more flour. "Poof!" They waited. Nothing happened. Gandalf reached for more flour, and Frodo felt an urge to take the bag away from the old man. He didn't however, and the cycle of poofing and waiting continued for ten minutes. Gandalf threw so much flour at the doors that they eventually couldn't see them anymore. They were just a white smear on the cliff face.  
Then, Legolas spotted a watermelon plant growing nearby. "Guys, look! Melons!"  
The doors began to open. Gandalf hastily threw a little more four on them to make it look like he'd done it. "Poof!" he said. "Ha! Piece of cake." He turned around and saw that the hobbits were fishing in a nearby lake. "Leave the water alone. Get over here."  
"Hey!" Merry exclaimed happily. "I got a nibble!" He yanked on the line. An enormous tentacle shot out of the water and grabbed him. "Figures," he muttered, and was lifted into the air. At once, everyone grabbed their weapons and went to Merry's rescue, but more tentacles came out of the water, flailing all over the place. Nobody could get close enough to the tentacle that held the poor hobbit.  
"Legolas! Aragorn shouted. "Shoot it! Make it release him!"  
"I don't think that's a good idea!" Legolas called back.  
"WHY NOT?!" Aragorn demanded, chopping at the squirming tentacle nearest him.  
"Because I've never used a bow before!"  
Everything stopped as soon as the words came out of Legolas' mouth. Aragorn stared at him. Gimli stared at him. The tentacled monster stopped waving its tentacles and raised its face out of the water to stare at him.  
Aragorn spoke slowly and deliberately. "You've never... used... a bow before?!"  
"Nope."  
"But...," Aragorn sputtered, gesturing helplessly, "but... you're an elf!"  
"Oh, so just because I'm an elf automatically makes me an expert with a bow?" Legolas demanded.  
During this, Merry had slipped out of the monster's grasp and was sneaking through the doors with Gandalf and the other hobbits. Soon, only Aragorn and Legolas were outside. Aragorn still couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"Shoot that watermelon," he ordered.  
Legolas put an arrow on the string, drew back, and fired. The arrow sailed into the lake monster's face and pierced its brain. The beast gurgled and sank below the water. "Oops," Legolas' eyes went wide. "But that's good right?"  
"The watermelon is over there!" Aragorn shouted. "Right in front of you! How can you miss at a ninety degree angle?!"  
"Can we continue with the quest, please?" Frodo called, poking his head out of the doorway.  
Aragorn sheathed his sword, glaring at the elf. "We'll continue your archery practice later." They went inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Mines of Moria

The hallway they entered became pitch black as soon as they rounded the first corner, the dim light from outside already lost. People started to bump into things.  
"Oof!" said Gimli. "Watch where you're going!"  
"Sorry," Boromir mumbled. "Ow! Who stepped on my toe?!"  
"That would be me," Gandalf declared. "But it's only because you keep treading on my cape."  
"Actually, I was holding on to it," Frodo said. "I don't want to get lost in here."  
"I thought you said it would be nice down here!" Legolas wailed at Gimli. "There aren't even any torches!"  
"Here," said Gandalf. "I'll give us a little light. Poof! Ah! There we go."  
"That didn't... cough! ...do anything!" said Merry. "Now it's just... cough! ...dustier!"  
"Oh, well uh... let me try again."  
"No need!" Pippin said hurriedly. "I just found a torch on the wall."  
"Well don't just stand there!" Legolas cried. "Turn it on! Light it! Make it work!"  
"I'll find some tinder," said Aragorn. "Ah, here's some!"  
"AAAUUGH!" Gimli yelled. "That's my beard!"  
"Oh, sorry."  
"I brought a tinder-box," said Sam, "but I'll have to dig through my backpack to find it. Hold on a minute." The others waited impatiently, listening to the sounds of Sam rummaging through his supplies. It took a minute for him to find it, and a few more for them to succeed in lighting the torch. When they could finally see, and looked around, they almost regretted their success. Skeletons of dwarves and goblings lay all around them, some still clutching weapons.  
"Uh, you said your relative got rid of the goblins," Boromir said to Gimli. "It looks more like the dwarves and goblins got rid of each other. Is this still a good idea?"  
"NOPE," Legolas declared, pivoting on his heel. "I vote we skip the death tunnels."  
"I said I wouldn't turn back," Frodo reminded the others. Aragorn caught Legolas by the back of his collar as he marched past, stopping him abruptly. Frodo continued. "Besides, if everything's dead, there's nothing to be afraid of. Come on." He held the torch and led the group forward, deeper into the mines. Then he realized he had no idea where he was going. "Um, Gimli?" he said. "Have you been in here before? Could you lead us through?"  
"I've never been here myself," Gimli replied. "All I know are the glorious stories of the thousands of rooms and winding tunnels."  
"Well," said Merry. "That's sure encouraging."  
"Allow me," said Gandalf. "I saw a map of Moria once. I think I can find a way." He took the lead and led them through several passages. Boromir collected the torches he found for when the current one died. After several twists and turns, they came into a huge, open chamber. A mining chasm cut through the center, easily forty feet across and unfathomably deep.  
"How do we get across?" asked Pippin.  
"We have two options," Gandalf replied. "Firstly, we could float across if I use my magic."  
"That's not going to work," Frodo shook his head. "What's the other choice?"  
"There's a bridge over that way," Gandalf jerked his head to the right, "but it'll be much faster if I-,"  
"Nope. No magic," Frodo said, already heading for the bridge in the distance. "Option two it is!"  
They'd scarcely crossed to the other side when they were met with their next obstacle. Directly in front of them were three, identical tunnels. Gandalf stopped in front of them and grumbled.  
"I don't remember this area," he said. "Wait... yes! Yes, I remember." He made no move towards any of the tunnels.  
"Well?" Gimli asked impatiently. "You said you remember. Which way is it, wizard?"  
"I don't know," Gandalf replied. "I just remember a coffee stain here." The other eight fellowship members groaned and sat down. They waited as Gandalf thought. The wizard suggested the use of flour, but the idea was vetoed immediately. They ended up stopping for the night, sleeping on the hard stones in front of the three way fork.

In the morning, the problem remained. Gandalf sat looking at the tunnels and muttering to himself while everyone else ate breakfast. Frodo ate near the chasm, peering down into its bottomless depths. For the most part, he saw nothing. However, as he was finishing, he glimpsed movement below out of the corner of his eye. He hurried over to inform Gandalf.  
"There's something down there," he whispered.  
"It's Gollum," Gandalf answered, not taking his eyes off the tunnels.  
"How do you know? You didn't see it."  
Gandalf turned to Frodo and raised one eyebrow.  
"Right," Frodo rolled his eyes. "Just go with it. Why can't I ever get a decent answer?"  
Suddenly, the wizard stood up. "I have come to a conclusion."  
"Which is?" asked Legolas.  
"Be patient and I'll tell you!" Gandalf wagged a finger at him. "We must split into three groups of three. Each group will take a tunnel. We will see where they lead, and return to this spot in half an hour to choose the best."  
It was decided that Legolas, Boromir, and Merry would take the first tunnel. Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam took the second, while Gimli, Pippin, and Gandalf took the last. They lit two more torches so that each group would have light. All three groups entered their tunnels at the same time, walking slowly forward down the cold, dusty passages. Frodo couldn't help but think that splitting up, even temporarily, was a bad idea in a place like this.  
After about forty feet, it was discovered that all three tunnels led to the same place.  
"Hi!" said Legolas, waving to the other groups. "Long time, no see!"  
The chamber they had entered was vast. Not only was it immense in length and width, but height as well. Giant pillars rose to an unseen ceiling. Frodo gaped at the grandeur of it.  
The moment of awe was cut short when Gimli spotted a sideroom, illuminated by moonlight. He ran over to it, crying out in anguish.  
"Gimli!" Aragorn called after him. "Where are you going?!" He turned to the others and shrugged. "I suppose we better follow him and see what's the matter." They followed the dwarf into the side room. Gimli had his head bowed and was sobbing in front of a carved stone monument.  
"Wow," Legolas whispered. "He must really appreciate art." Then he saw the words carved on the monument.

BALIN SON OF FUNDIN  
LORD OF MORIA

"Oh. It's just some dead person."  
"SOME DEAD PERON?!" Gimli shouted. "This is my relative's tomb! I ought to remove your pointy head for that!"  
"Calm youself, Gimli!" Gandalf restrained the dwarf. "We must be quiet! There may still be goblins down in these mines!"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Enormous drums echoed from below, thudding dully through the ground. Gandalf smacked Gimli over the head. "See what you've done?"  
"Bah!" Gimli spat. "I could use something to behead anyway!" He readied his ax.  
"Quick!" cried Boromir. "Barricade the doors!" He and Aragorn closed the heavy doors and started jamming things against them. Spears, planks, and whatever else lay handy were propped up to keep the doors from swinging inwards. On top of that, Gandalf 'strengthened' the doors with his 'magic'. He'd scarcely stepped back before the doors shuddered under a massive blow from the outside. A loud bellow echoed through the mines.  
"They have a cave troll," Boromir announced grimly.  
"What?!" Pippin balked. "No fair! How come they have a cave troll? Do we get a cave troll?"  
The doors were smashed open. The cave troll stood outside, holding a large, stone-headed mace. Goblins began to pour through the doorway and into the room.  
"For Gondor!" shouted Boromir, and he blew his horn. "Pweeeeeeeee!"  
The goblins skidded to a halt, looking puzzled by the unimpressive noise. The cave troll cocked its head and drooled.  
"That's the Horn of Gondor?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Boromir. "I'm not impressed."  
"Well, it was my first try," Boromir shrugged. "I think I did well enough."  
"First try at what?" asked Sam.  
"Horn making. It's actually a lot harder than you might think."  
"You made that silly thing yourself?" Aragorn luaghed.  
A goblin raised his hand. "Uh, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but um... Are you guys busy? 'Cause we can always came back later when you're done talking, if it's more convenient."  
"Oh, no, no," Aragorn waved a hand dismissively. "Now is fine. Go ahead and attack us."  
"Okey-doke. CHAAAAAARGE!" The goblins started forward again, but only went a few feet before Gandalf threw his arm in a long sweep, dusting them with flour.  
"POOF! You have all been turned into daisies!"  
"We HAVE?!" one goblin shrieked in terror. He ran screaming from the room.  
"Well," Boromir remarked, "that takes care of one of them."  
"Nope," Gimli pointed. "He's figured it out and he's coming back."  
"If you agree to leave us alone," the wizard addressed the glowering goblins, "I promise to change you back into your hideous, stinky, idiotic selves."  
The goblins charged. Aragorn and Boromir began to cut them down with their swords. Gandalf tried to help, but didn't accomplish much. Gimli charged right into the middle of the swarming throng and started to hack away at anything within reach. The hobbits threw rocks. Legolas was the team's moral support.  
"Go team!" he cheered. "You're doing great!"  
"Take that!" Sam shouted, throwing a stone and scoring a direct hit. On Aragorn.  
"Ow!" Aragorn raised a hand to the back of his head. "Aim for the goblins, you stupid oaf!"  
The goblins weren't nearly as skilled fighters as Aragorn, Boromir, or Gimli, and they were held off easily. Before long, the last goblin fell. Boromir blew a sigh of relief.  
"Whew!" he breathed, sitting down on a pile of goblins. He stood back up immediately. "Wait a minute. Something's missing. Who killed the cave troll?"  
"Not me," Gimli admitted. "Certainly not the hobbits. Or Gandalf."  
"I may have killed it without noticing," Aragorn frowned, "but I don't think so."  
"I didn't do anything!" Legolas grinned.  
"We know," Boromir muttered. "I guess this means... nobody killed it." He looked around. "Oh. There it is." Evidently, it was not a particularly aggressive troll. During the fighting, it had sat down and fallen asleep. Gandalf walked boldly up to it.  
"May you never wake again, foul beast," he said. "Poof!" He threw flour before anyone could stop him. The cave troll sneezed and woke up. "It didn't work!" Gandalf cried, running away.  
"Shocking," Frodo muttered.  
The cave troll roared and tried to smash Gandalf with it's mace. The wizard managed to dodge, and the tomb was smashed open.  
"How DARE you!" Gimli roared. He charged at the monster, but was kicked away.  
The troll chased Gandalf around the room, ignoring everyone but the one who'd disturbed its nap. The hobbits tried to stab at its feet as it passed by, but the troll's skin was too tough. Aragorn and Boromir chased after the troll with their swords, but the couldn't pierce its thick hide either. The troll began to close in on the wizard.  
"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, a desperate idea in his head. "Shoot the floor!"  
"Why?" asked the elf, frowning in confusion.  
"Just do it!"  
Legolas put an arrow on the bowstring and drew back. As the troll prepared to splatter Gandalf into goo, Legolas stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration, and fired. He missed the floor, the arrow sailing of in a crazy angle and imbedding itself in the troll's throat. The troll gurgled briefly and fell dead.  
"Whoa!" Legolas cried, eyes wide. "I did it again! I'm awesome at this!"  
"As long as you don't aim for what you want to kill," Aragorn added.  
"I just need some practice, that's all," Legolas glared at him. "I'll hit what I aim at eventually. You'll see."  
"Can we move on before more goblins come?" Merry asked impatiently. "It wasn't exactly pleasant the first time."  
"Follow me," said Gandalf. He led them out into a large chamber. They still heard the drums from below, but now they sounded closer. Frodo glanced behind them as they ran.  
"There's an awful lot of goblins chasing us!" he said nervously. "Gandalf, are we almost out?"  
"Almost," Gandalf puffed, out of breath. "Just some stairs and a bridge, then we're out."  
"What's that up ahead?" Merry asked. A crack in the floor was directly in their path. Before they could jump across, goblins began to pour out of it, cutting them off. The fellowship was soon surrounded by a sea of angry goblins. "Well, crud," Merry muttered. "This sucks." The goblins readied themselves for the killing strike, but before they could attack, a thunderous roar shook the cavern. The goblins glanced at each other, then took off, scurrying back into the holes they'd come out of.  
"I spoke too soon!" Merry cheered. "But wait... what was that noise?"  
"That," Gandalf looked gravely into the hobbit's eyes, "was a Balrog of Morgoth, coming to kill us all in nasty, painful ways."  
"Ah," Merry nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."  
"We should probably run," Legolas pointed out.  
"Hmmmm," Gandalf thought for a minute. "Yes, I suppose so. RUUUUN!"  
They jumped across the crack in the floor. Pippin took the lead, followed closely by Merry and Legolas. Frodo hung back, saving his strength. Aragorn and Boromir were neck and neck for fourth place as Gimli trots along in fifth. Gandalf has passed Sam, leaving him in the back of the pack. Now Sam is going up on the inside, surging towards the front. It's gonna be a close call here, folks! They're coming up on the stairs, running for all their worth! Oh, and now a surprise move by Gimli! He's passing Aragorn! Passing Boromir and... and... Gimli wins! The dwarf's done it again! Legolas has come in second, Merry in third. The rest will recieve participation awards. My, what an epic race! Tune in next time when we- CLICK

We apologize. This chapter was hacked by an out of work horse race announcer. We will correct this problem as soon as possible. For now, back to the story.

"Quick, everyone," Gandalf waved them forward, "down the stairs! We're almost through!" They hurried down the railingless stairway, only to find that a section had crumbled away! A six foot gap was between them and the rest of the stairs.  
"We'll have to jump," Boromir declared. "Hobbits first, then-," The Balrog let out another ground-shaking roar.  
"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" Gandalf screamed, leaping across. He barely made it to the other side.  
"Wheee!" said Legolas, jumping across easily.  
Aragorn picked up Frodo and threw him like a football. The hobbit spiralled perfectly through the air and hit Gandalf in the stomach, knocking the breath out of the wizard. Aragorn bent to pick up Pippin, but another two-foot section of stairway suddenly broke off. "Yikes! I'm out of here!" he said. "Geronimo!" He jumped across.  
Gimli went next. He got a running start, yelling as he jumped. "AAAAAARR!" he cried, and flew over everyone's heads, leaping twenty feet.  
"Wow," Aragorn blinked. "I didn't see that coming."  
"Catch Sam!" Boromir called, tossing the hobbit across. He repeated the action with Merry and Pippin. When Pippin landed, yet another piece broke off. Now Boromir was alone on his side of the gap, facing an eleven foot jump.  
"Here!" said Gandalf, tossing flour at him. "Now fly across!"  
Boromir jumped as hard as he could. It wasn't enough. Frodo gasped as he saw the warrior fall out of view. Then there was a thud, and a grunt. Frodo inched to the edge of the gap and peered down. Boromir had landed on a wooden catwalk that ran beneath the bridge.  
"I'm alright!" Boromir called up. "Go! I'll catch up!" The Balrog roared again.  
"Suits me!" Gandalf declared. They hurried down the rest of the stairs.  
"Look!" said Legolas. "I can see the bridge!"  
"Look! said Merry. "The room is on fire!"  
"The Balrog is coming," Gandalf said. "We must go faster!" They sped through the chamber towards the bridge. Boromir, breathing heavily, ran up from behind and rejoined the group. They were only a stone's throw away when they heard a massive footstep behind them. Looking back, Frodo saw an enormous creature of shadow and flame. The Balrog carried a large sword and a long, thin whip, both of which were made of fire. It chased them as the crossed the bridge. Gandalf stopped halfway across and faced the monster.  
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" he yelled, and tossed a handful of flour on the bridge at his feet. The Balrog looked puzzled. It began to take step forward. "No, no, no!" Gandalf waved his staff at it. "You can't cross! I told you so!"  
"ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!" the Balrog replied.  
"Watch your language, demon!" Gandalf shook a fist at it. He turned to go. The Balrog took another step, raising its sword. The bridge cracked loudly, then the section beneath the Balrog gave way, sending the monster plummeting into the blackness with an echoing roar.  
Gandalf looked back slowly, blinking at where the Balrog had been a second ago. "I... I... I DID IT!" he exclaimed, raising his arms triumphantly. He began to cheer and fist-pump.  
Frodo was about to point out that the skinny bridge never would have held up to the Balrog's weight regardless of what Gandalf had done, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.  
"Just go with it," Aragorn whispered.  
"There's light up ahead!" Legolas called out. They followed him to an open doorway.  
And so they all made it out of Moria, safe and sound. Each of them took a moment to breathe the fresh air.  
"Aaaaah...," Gimli sighed. "That was fun."  
"WHAT?!" everyone else shouted.  
"Oh, uh, except for the goblins. And the troll. And the Balrog, of course."  
"Which your relative got rid of," Legolas reminded him. "Let's not go in there again."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Lothlorien

The Fellowship took a much needed rest on the mountainside. Aragorn dug into their provisions. He came up almost empty-handed.  
"There's no food in here!" he exclaimed.  
"What?" Frodo sat bolt upright. "That's impossible! We only left Rivendell two days ago! Where did it all go?"  
"It seems I have made a grave mistake," Gandalf said, stroking his beard, "in allowing Samwise Gamgee to carry our food supply."  
Sam grinned weakly and shrugged. "Heh, heh. Sorry. I can't help myself sometimes."  
"Well you certainly helped yourself to our rations!" Boromir spat. "Now what are we going to do for food?"  
"I'll hunt for us using Legolas' bow," Aragorn offered, but the elf shook his head.  
"No! It's my bow. I'll hunt for us."  
"You'll miss! I _never_ miss!"  
Pippin raised a finger. "I've got it! Gandalf can finally put his flour to good use and make us some bread!"  
"Excellent idea!" Gandalf agreed. "POOF!"  
"No, not like that!" Pippin cried. "You need to bake it!"  
"Absurd! You don't bake magic!"  
"You need more ingredients than just flour to make bread anyway," Frodo pointed out.  
"So we'll starve?" Merry asked. "Is that the plan?"  
"I've got an IDEA!" Legolas exlaimed. "We could visit my relatives in Lothlorien!"  
"We just tried to visit Gimli's relatives," Frodo said. "Is this quest about family reunions now?"  
"They'll have food," Legolas pointed out.  
"You want to talk about relatives with food? Try my father!" Boromir said proudly.  
"The Steward of Gondor?" Aragorn mused. "I suppose he'd have some good chow."  
"No, no! You must have misheard!" Boromir shook his hands. "My father is the Stewer of Gondor. He owns an eatery and serves the finest stew in the kingdom."  
"Gondor's a bit far out of our way," Frodo said. "I think we'd be better of going to Lothlorien." He turned to Legolas. "Which way is it?"  
Legolas grinned brightly. "Follow me everybody!" He began skipping merrily towards the west.  
"I suppose we better do as he says," said Aragorn. Everyone began skipping after Legolas, Gandalf tripping on his robes every few yards. None of them noticed the skinny creature following behind them, slinking from shadow to shadow.

* * *

 **(Author's note: All strange spellings of words spoken by Uruk-Hai are intentional.)**

* * *

In the tower of Orthanc, Saruman was getting to unleash his new weapon; a stronger, faster, new and improved kind of orc soldier. He stood in his chamber with the first of his 'Uruk-Hai' as he called them.  
"Your name is Lurtz," he said. "You will be my finest warrior."  
"Master?" Lurtz asked.  
Saruman nodded. "Yes, I am your master. You serve me."  
"Master?"  
"Yes?"  
"Can I have a glass of wahder?" Lurtz asked.  
"What?" Saruman scoffed, baffled. He had been expecting some kind of pledge of allegiance, not a request for a beverage! "Uh... can't that wait?"  
"Bud I'm thirsdy!"  
"Well... go get it yourself then!"  
Lurtz shook his head stubbornly. "I'm tired! I wan' you to ged it for me!"  
"But... but I'm your master!" Saruman sputtered.  
"Id's not fair!" Lurtz bawled. "You're yewwing at me and I didn't do anyting wong!"  
"Stop acting like a baby!" Saruman commanded. He began to sense a problem. He had strong, tough soldiers now, but they wouldn't be a very effective force if they acted like toddlers. He sighed in frustration, caving to Lurtz's loud crying. "Fine. I'll get you some water."  
"Yay!" Lurtz jumed and clapped with a huge smile on his face. "Tanks you, Daddy!"  
"Oh, no!" Saruman groaned. "Please, don't call me that!"

Legolas led the Fellowship through the wilderness until they arrived at the forest of Lorien.  
"Ta-Da!" he said. "We're here!"  
"I don't see anyone," Gimli grumbled. "You said they'd have food for us!"  
"You're one to talk," Aragorn scoffed. "He has a point though, Legolas. Where is everybody?"  
"Deep inside the forest."  
"Well then why did you say 'we're here' if we're not there yet?" asked Boromir.  
Legolas shrugged. "I got impatient I guess. Come on! It's not too much further." They were all (except for Sam) too hungry to refuse, so they entered the forest. They walked for hours, looking for any sign of the elf city. The forest was darkening toward night by the time they saw the first sign. Literally. There was an arrow-shaped sign nailed to a tree.  
"Lothlorien," Aragorn read. "Half a mile. See the sights. Take a souvenir. Stop by Earindal's sandwich shop."  
"SANDWICH SHOP!" Gimli shouted, and charged off in the direction the sign pointed. They ran the last half-mile, pushing through the branches and bushes in their way. Passing beneath an archway, they arrived at Lothlorien, covered in small cuts and leaves. They dashed around madly in search of the advertised sandwich shop, but met with no success.  
An elf walked over to them and bowed. "Greetings. Welcome to Loth-,"  
Aragorn grabbed him by the shoulders. "WHERE. ARE. THE. SANDWICHES?!" He shook the poor elf violently with each word.  
"Th-th-they're over th-that way!" the elf stuttered. "Please, d-d-don't hurt me!"  
Aragorn dropped the elf and led a charge in the direction the elf had indicated. They found the shop, little more than a hut with a bar and stools, and were soon stuffing their faces with greasy pulled-pork sandwiches.  
After his last bite, Frodo licked his fingers clean and closed his eyes. "That was delicious."  
"I ate mine too fast to taste it," Gimli said, "but I'll take your word for it."  
"Buuuuurp," said Pippin.  
"BuuuUUUUUuurp," Gandalf agreed.  
The elf that had greeted them and been subsequently frightened half to death had informed Galadriel and Celeborn, the elves in charge, of the Fellowship's arrival. The two of them went to see the newcomers.  
"Mithrandir?" asked Galadriel as they approached. "Is that you hiding behind all that grease?"  
"Who the heck is Mithrandir?" Merry whispered.  
Gandalf wiped his face and stood. "That would be me. Greetings, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."  
Celeborn crossed his arms. "Why is it that everyone says 'Galadriel and Celeborn' and not 'Celeborn and Galadriel'? I'm important too, you know."  
"Quiet," Galadriel hushed him and turned back to the Fellowship. "Why have you come here?"  
"Well...," Gandalf began, "...uh... we... we REALLY like pulled pork sand-,"  
"You have brought a dark evil to our home," Galadriel interrupted.  
"Yes," Celeborn agreed hurriedly, and tried to look imposing. "I knew that too."  
"We're taking the Sauron's ring of power to Mordor," Frodo told them. "We only came here because we ran out of food." Eight pairs of eyes glared at Sam, who was starting on his fourth sandwich. Sam noticed and stuck his tongue out at them.  
"Then you will be leaving as soon as you resupply, yes?" Celeborn asked.  
Gandalf smiled weakly. "Actually, it's getting rather late, you see? And we would very much like to have a roof over our heads. Could we possibly just... stay the night?"  
"No," Celeborn said firmly. "The ring cannot linger here. Absolutely no-,"  
"Of course you can stay," Galadriel broke in. "And while you are here, I find it only reasonable for us to give you each an elven cloak as a souvenir. Oh! And gifts! Lots and lots of food and gifts!"  
Celeborn threw his hands in the air and walked away,muttering about consistency and wondering why he even bothered trying anymore.  
"Thank you for your hospitality," Aragorn bowed. "Where will we be staying?"  
"You can stay in Celeborn's mansion," Galadriel pointed to a massive golden treehouse. "He'll stay in our new inn. It's been a bit leaky lately, but he should be fine. It hasn't rained since-," Thunder rumbled ominously, cutting her off. Rain started to fall, and the Fellowship hurriedly said goodbye and headed for the mansion as a downpour began.  
They quickly made themselves at home. Sam whittled the furniture, Gimli spilled food on the floor, and Gandalf helped himself to the pantry, replenishing his supply of magic. The sleep they had that night was the best they'd had in days, disturbed only by the anquished screams of Celeborn.  
The following morning found them all fast asleep well after sunrise. Eventually, they were woken when a soggy, smelly, and extremely sleep-deprived Celeborn chased them all out.  
Galadriel met them and took them to the river. "This is the best route to take," she told them. "But before you go, I have some presents for you." Legolas, Aragorn, and the hobbits were given elven cloaks. "These will keep you hidden from unfriendly eyes," she said. She gave Merry and Pippin a small dagger each. Sam opted for another pulled pork sandwich. "To you, Frodo Baggins, I give the glowstick of destiny," she said, handing him a small, white stick. "Let it be a light for you for when all other lights go out."  
Frodo looked at it skeptically. "Um... destiny?"  
"Just go with it."  
Frodo rolled his eyes and accepted the glowstick.  
"This is for you, Legolas," Galadriel said, handing him a large yellow book. Legolas read the cover.  
"Archery for Dummies?!" he cried, "I don't need this!" He tossed it in the river. Galadriel didn't seem to notice. She turned to Gimli.  
"And what would a dwarf aske of me?" she inquired.  
"Nothing," Gimli muttered, but then changed his mind. "Uh, well... if I could have one of your golden hairs, it would be nice," he said awkwardly.  
Galadriel seemed to consider this for a minute, then whipped a large pair of scissors out of nowhere and chopped off half of her hair and tossed it to Gimli. "Here you go!"  
"Oh...," Gimli said. "That's uh... a bit more than I asked for...," But Galadriel was already walking away.  
The Fellowship had been given three of Celeborn's canoes. They used these to paddle down the swift river. It got boring after a while, so they started bumping into each other's canoes, trying to get each other wet. This also got boring, not to mention soggy and cold, so they went back to simply paddling.  
"What kind of food did Galadriel give to us?" Frodo asked.  
"Please tell me she gave us more of those sandwiches," Sam said.  
"I think he's become addicted to those things," Aragorn whispered to Frodo.  
"She gave us lembas bread," Legolas said.  
"What's lembas bread?" Merry asked.  
"Flat bread that's very filling. Don't eat a lot of it at once."  
"Why not?" asked Sam, who only ate in large quantities.  
"Because it's a... a bit noisy when it goes through your stomach. Just a bit."  
They made good time, traveling far down the river before it got late. They beached the canoes and made a camp.  
"If you guys would like to try some of the lembas, we could have some now," Legoalas suggested.  
"Sounds good to me," said Frodo. The food was being carried by Merry and Pippin now, seeing as nobody trusted Sam with it anymore. They dug into their packs and handed each member of the Fellowship a piece.  
"Mmm," Gimli nodded as he chewed. "Nice and tasteless, just the way I like it."  
"It's not tasteless!" Legolas complained.  
"Alright then, what does it taste like?" Gimli challenged.  
"Bread," Legolas said. "Duh!"  
"Then why not just call it bread?"  
"Because it's lembas bread!"  
"Please!" Aragorn stepped between them. "Allow me. I have extraordinarily sensitive taste buds. I will tell you what it tastes like." He took a small bite and chewed slowly.  
"Well?" asked Gimli. "What is it?"  
Aragorn took his time. A long time. So long that everyone went back to eating and forgot about him. When the fire was nothing but dying embers, he finally spoke.  
"Biscuits. They taste like biscuits."  
Gimli glared at him. "Biscuits are just bread!"  
"Then why are they called biscuits?" Legolas demanded. People began to take sides.  
"Biscuits taste different from normal bread," said Aragorn. "Only I can tell the difference."  
"Which is what exactly?" Merry asked.  
"Isn't it obvious?" Pippin asked. "Biscuits are for breakfast. They're special!  
"They're both dough!" Frodo pointed out. "Just eggs, and milk and flour-,"  
"There you go again with baking magic!" Gandalf exclaimed. "Stupid hobbits!"  
"PWEEEEEEEEE!" Boromir blew the horn of Gondor, silencing them. "Do you realize how stupid you all sound?" he asked them. "Arguing over lembas and bread and biscuits? Really? You're disgraceful." They all lowered their eyes, regretting their pointless squabble.  
Frodo glanced over at Sam, then did a double-take. Sam was munching on a large piece of lembas. "Did you just take another piece?" he asked.  
"No, this is my first."  
"It looked smaller a minute ago."  
"You're just seeing it from a different angle," Sam argued. "Plus, the lighting is bad."  
"Whatever," Frodo muttered, too tired to keep arguing. He lay down to try and sleep. The others soon followed his example. But before anyone could succeed in falling asleep, the silence of the camp was shattered.  
 **GLUURGLUUUURGLE**  
Aragorn jumped up, grabbed his sword, and began attacking the nearby foliage.  
"Die, you monsters! DIE! DIE!"  
"Aragorn, stop!" Frodo yelled. "We're not under attack! You just annihilated the shrubbery!"  
"What was that noise?" Gimli asked.  
"I... don't know," Sam said, his voice strained. "Maybe it-,"  
 **GLAAAAAAAAARG**  
Aragorn renewed his assault on the bushes, Legolas hid under his blanket, and Gandalf "turned himself invisible". Frodo however, simply turned and pointed an accusing finger at Sam.  
"I knew it! You snuck another piece! You PIG!"  
"No, it's not true! I promise!"  
 **GARGALAAAARGUL**  
"Alright! Alright! It's true! I had two pieces, so what?! I'm the one suffering for it! My stomach feels like it's going to explode!"  
Merry, who was closest to Sam, casually scooted a few inches further away. Just in case.  
It took two hours for Sam's digestive noises to cease, and another hour for him to stop moaning. In the end, no one got enough sleep that night.

* * *

 **Author's note: I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this. I had to rewrite some things I wasn't happy with. Please forgive me and, if you're still reading, thank you very much for your patience.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Uruk-Hai

Saruman sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. He had finally convinced Lurtz and twenty other Uruk-Hai to leave and hunt the ringbearer. At first, Lurtz had asked why. Saruman had explained.  
"Becuase it's a very powerful tool and I want it," he had said. "Plus, I'll give you each a cookie when you get back." He had quickly learned that cookies were an easy way to convince his warriors to do what he wanted.  
"Two cookies!" Lurtz replied. "We want two cookies for us!"  
"Why you little... fine!" Saruman spat. "You can have two cookies, but get that ring for me!"  
Lurtz got a puzzled look on his face. "We godda get a wing?"  
"YES!" Saruman yelled. "I _just_ told you that!" The Uruk-Hai started crying. "No, no! Stop it! Ugh... Listen. If you get this ring, you can have all the cookies you want, alright?"  
"Wan' two cookies!" Lurtz replied.  
"Yes, yes, fine. Whatever. Two cookies when you return," Saruman nodded, but Lurtz was already shaking his head.  
"Wan' cookies now!" he declared. The other Uruk-Hai all agreed.  
"Want two cookies!" "Wants 'em now!"  
Saruman groaned and went to fetch forty-two cookies. The Uruk-Hai munched noisily as they ate. Saruman decided he had better make sure that they remembered the deal. "You uh... You'll get the ring now... right?"  
Lurtz frowned, not understanding at first. Then he remembered. "Oh! Get the wing! Yes. We'll get the wing for Daddy."  
"Perfect! Now go!" Saruman pointed to the door.  
"Wait!" said an Uruk-Hai. "I haven't ate my udder cookie yet!" He took his time, eating his cookie in no less than five minutes. "Okay! I'm weddy!" Lurtz led them out the door.  
As Saruman finished recalling this, a knock sounded at the door. He wearily shuffled over and opened it.  
"Hi, Daddy!" said Lurtz. "We twied, but we didn't find it. Can we come back inside? Oh! And have more cookies, please?"  
"Where did you search?" Saruman demanded.  
"All over da place!" Lurtz gestured to a small area at the base of the tower. A few of the other Uruk-Hai were still shuffling around, looking at the muddy ground.  
"No, no, NO!" Saruman fumed. "You need to travel far away! Search for the hobbit, take his ring, and bring it back! You can't just search the yard!" The Uruk-Hai started crying again. Saruman slammed the door and tried to ignore them.

The Fellowship woke early in the morning and packed their supplies into the canoes. The continued down the river, the miles slipping by one after the other. As they paddled, Frodo thought of a question and decided to ask Gandalf.  
"What exactly is our plan? How are we going to get into Mordor?" When he didn't get a response, he nudged Gandalf. "Hello? Are you awake?" The wizard had an odd habit of sleeping with his eyes open. It was not the case this time.  
"Of course I'm awake," Gandalf grumbled. "I'm just trying to figure out an answer for you."  
"You mean we don't have a plan?" Frodo asked. "Nothing? Are you crazy?" In another canoe, Merry had overheard them.  
"We're DOOMED!" he wailed. Soon the entire Fellowship was getting nervous.  
"It's not too late to turn back," Legolas suggested. "We... we could go back to Lothlorien! I'm sure they wouldn't mind!"  
"I'm all for Lothlorien," Sam agreed heartily.  
"You just want more hamburgers," Pippin accused. "I want to go home."  
"As Isildur's heir," Aragorn began, "it is impossible for me to be frightened. Nevertheless, out of my concern for the rest of you wimps, I will abandon this quest if necessary.  
"All we need is a plan," said Frodo. "We don't need to give up! We're getting close!"  
"How do we know?" asked Sam. "Nobody thought to bring a map with us."  
"No problem," said Gandalf. "Follow me." He began steering their canoe over to the bank of the river. The other two canoes followed him and soon all three were pulled up onto the shore.  
"So what's the solution?" asked Gimli, standing with crossed arms.  
Instead of answering, Gandalf squatted down and started doodling in the mud with a stick.  
"Oh!" Merry exclaimed. "I think I understand!"  
"Understand what?" Sam demanded. "What's he doing?"  
"I think he's gone crazy."  
"Just now?" Frodo whispered. "I thought he was crazy from the start."  
"I am very much sane, thank you," Gandalf told them. "I simply thought that, between the nine of us, we should we able to draw a half-decent map."  
"Dibs on Gondor!" Boromir cried instantly.  
"Well who else was going to do it?" Gimli asked. "You're the only one from there."  
"Ahem?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow.  
"Gesundheit," said Gimli, oblivious to his meaning.  
"Does that mean I get to do the trees and stuff?" Legolas asked. Gimli objected.  
"You don't know _every single_ tree!"  
"We don't _need_ every single tree!" Frodo cried. "We don't need Gondor! We don't even need most of this river! All we need is what's between here and Mount Doom!" There was silence for a minute.  
"Does that mean I don't get to draw Moria?" Gimli asked.  
"How do you draw a mine?" asked Pippin.  
"Well," Gimli scratched his head, "I'd probably need a different tool. Maybe a shovel."  
"No," Frodo stayed firm. "We're only going to draw as much as we really need."  
Three days later, Legolas put the final touches to the last oak tree on their perfectly to scale, three dimensional map of Middle-earth, complete with running water.  
"There we are!" said Gandalf, satisfied. "Just what we needed."  
A twig fell from an overhanging tree and destroyed Minas Tirith.  
"NOOOOOOOO!" cried Boromir, falling to his knees in misery. Frodo was equally upset. This meant four more hours of Boromir's ultra-painstaking, super-detailed construction of the largest city in Middle-earth.  
Finally, after four hours, four minutes, and twenty-eight seconds (by Frodo's count), they were ready to make their plans.  
"Okay," Gandalf began. "This is us here." He pointed to a cluster of tiny people bending over a microscopic map. "This over here is Mordor, where we need to go." He pointed to the Mordor replica, then paused.  
"We know all that already," Frodo groaned. "We need to figure out the stuff in between!"  
"Well, we obviously can't use the gate," Aragorn pointed at a model of the Black Gate (with working hinges of course).  
"Why not?" asked Legolas. "Oh, yeah. 'Cause they wouldn't let us in."  
"We could disguise ourselves as orcs," Frodo suggested.  
"Oh, please!" Aragorn scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."  
"We could tunnel underneath," said Gimli.  
"That's even worse!" Aragorn objected. "We could pop up anywhere!"  
"Maybe we should-," Legolas began.  
"WORST IDEA I'VE EVER HEARD!" Aragorn shouted.  
"Okay, what's _your_ plan?" Pippin demanded.  
"A full on charge," Aragorn replied, slamming his right fist into his left palm. "We'll smash right through them."  
"You want us to charge right in?" Boromir scoffed. "Through thousands of orcs? It's suicide!"  
"That's why they'll never expect it!" Aragorn pointed out. "If you're too incompetent, we can do it without you."  
Boromir opened his mouth for an angry retort, but the sounds of something crashing through the nearby bushes stopped him.  
Rustle... rustle rustle CRASH. "Oof! Owie!"  
"Who goes there!" Aragorn called.  
"Us does!" a voice answered. A moment later, Twenty one large orcs stumbled out of the bushes.  
"AAAAH!" Gandalf screamed. "Run, hobbits! Follow me!" He and the hobbits took off, heading over a hill.  
"Legolas!" Boromir shouted. "You're not a hobbit!"  
Legolas stopped midsprint on top of the hill and looked back sheepishly.  
"Hewo!" said Lurtz. "We're looking for a wing. Have you seen one?"  
"A wing?" Aragorn repeated. "Sorry, we haven't."  
"I think he means a ring," said Gimli.  
"Oh! A ring! Yes, we're actually on a secret quest to destroy one right now! But you can't have it."  
Boromir smacked his forehead.  
"But Daddy wants it!" Lurtz complained. "We gots to get it for him!"  
"Too bad!" said Gimli. "You'll just have to get him a different ring."  
Lurtz turned to the other Uruk-Hai. "I forget. What did Daddy say to do if they said no?" They pondered this question for a moment, rubbing their chins and frowning deeply.  
"I know!" one cried. "Daddy said to chop 'em in liddle pieces!" All twenty one Uruk-Hai pulled out long, wicked swords.  
"Fine!" Aragorn stood defiantly. "You may best Gimli and Boromir, being the petty, weak warriors that they are, but you shall never defeat me!" He reached for his sword. It wasn't there. "Oh. Uh... I seem to have left it in the canoe. Wait right there!" He ran for the canoes to retrieve his weapon.  
"For Gondor!" Boromir cried, blowing his horn. "Pweeeeeee!" Several of the Uruk-Hai giggled. Lurtz charged at Boromir.  
"Don't worry!" Legolas called from atop the hill. "I'll stop him!" He nocked an arrow, drew back, and released. The arrow sailed smoothly through the air... and hit Boromir in the back of the leg. Boromir gasped in pain, but kept standing, facing the oncoming Uruk-Hai. "Oooh," Legolas winced. "Sorry!"  
Boromir tripped Lurtz, ran past him, and cut down two of the Uruk-Hai.  
"Hey!" one cried. "You're not vewy nice!" Boromir relieved him of his head, then fell to his knees as a second arrow struck him in the back.  
"SORRY!" Legolas shouted.  
Boromir clenched his jaw and managed to stand in time to block an attack from another Uruk-Hai. Knocking his enemy's weapons aside, he swiftly ended the orc's life. "Aagh!" he grunted in pain. A third arrow had pierced his shoulder. He stumbled, trying to catch his breath. Rallying himself one last time, he kept fighting the Uruk-Hai as they came, yelling a war cry. "CURSE YOU, LEGOLAAAAAAAS!" He battled furiously, but the end was inevitable. The fourth arrow pierced his heart. He fell, defeated. So died Boromir, killed by an idiot aiming at someone else.  
Gimli woke from his sudden nap just as Aragorn returned with his sword. Luckily for them, Legolas' bowstring had snapped. The Uruk-Hai fled before them, except for Lurtz, who was still face down in the mud. He finally stood up blearily, rubbing his forehead.  
"Owie," he moaned. "Dat hurt." His eyes came into focus and he saw Aragorn and Gimli standing in front of him, weapons ready. "Surrender!" he said.  
Aragorn snapped his fingers in frustration. "Dang it! I should have seen that coming! Oh well. Take us prisoner."  
Lurtz grinned and pulled some string out of a pocket to tie them up with. Aragorn held his wrists together. Gimli was... less compliant. I won't go into details. Suffice to say that Lurtz uh... lost.

Gandalf and the hobbits had accidentally been separated in their headlong flight through the woods. Frodo was with Sam, Merry was with Pippin, and Gandalf was hiding in a muddy hole. Merry and Pippin were unlucky enough to stumble upon the fleeing Uruk-Hai.  
"Hey!" one cried. "Liddle fluffies!" The hobbits bolted as the Uruk-Hai chased after them. The orcs' longer legs made the hobbits' efforts futile, and they were soon caught. The Uruk-Hai started to carry them away.  
"Gandalf! Aragorn! Help!" Pippin shouted.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Merry screamed.  
"Quiet, fluffies!" said an Uruk-Hai. "We're taking you to Daddy now!"

Aragorn and Gimli heard the distant cries and charged off to help just as Frodo and Sam found their way back to the canoes. The two groups missed spotting each other.  
"What do we do now, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked when they came across Boromir's lifeless form.  
"We must continue the mission," Frodo said, resolute. He headed for a canoe. "Come on, Sam! Hurry!" Sam stopped searching Boromir for loose change and got in the canoe.

Aragorn and Gimli had only been running for a minute when they heard a cry for help behind them. Changing course, they sprinted towards it at full speed and found... Gandalf.  
"Help!" he pleaded. "I'm stuck in this hole!"  
"You IDIOT!" Gimli yelled, furious. "How did you let the hobbits get captured?!"  
"Don't worry," Gandalf replied as Aragorn helped him out. "I turned them all invisible! They'll be fine."  
They came back to the camp, spirits sagging.  
"All is lost!" cried Aragorn. "I've failed! Granted, it wasn't my fault, but I failed!"  
Legolas walked over and joined them. "Great news! I fixed my bowstring!"  
"Look!" said Gandalf. "Footprints! Hobbit footprints in the mud! They must have found their way back!"  
"Aw! They ruined the map!" Aragorn moaned.  
"One of the canoes is missing," Gimli pointed out.  
"There is hope!" Gandalf smiled. "Frodo has escaped."  
"How do you know it was Frodo?" Legolas asked.  
Gandalf glared at him. "I'm a wizard. I know things."  
They decided to bury Boromir. It was only after they'd done so that Aragorn found Boromir's sword on the ground and insisted it be buried with him. They dug him back up, gave him his sword, dumped him back in the hole, and buried him again.  
"He shall be avenged!" Aragorn vowed, shaking a fist at the heavens.  
"You mean we should kill Legolas?" Gimli asked.  
"Oh," Aragorn lowered his fist. "Um... never mind."  
Legolas blew a sigh of relief. "So what do we do now? Can we go home? I'm kinda tired and-,"  
"No!" Aragorn stopped him. "We must save Merry and Pippin! We cannot abandon them!"  
"I don't know," Gandalf frowned. "Would we really miss them very much?"  
"SHUT UP!" Aragorn snapped. "This is my DESTINY! I shall save the world, starting with these two hobbits!"  
And so, the Fellowship of the Ring of shattered. But there was still much more to be done. They journey continues...

* * *

 **The end. Thank you for reading my first fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was pretty nuts. I actually have some for the Two Towers written down on paper. Let me know if you want to see it, even if it is unfinished.**


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